It should have been today’s article. Bill Kaysing died on April 21, 2005 after an adventurous life. Half spent working as a white-collar worker and shuffling paperwork, half as an independent writer exploring the American West with a caravan or, captaining the Flying Goose, discovering the ravines of the California delta.
I couldn’t even explain the intense empathy that made me decide to write his biography, an almost autobiography, written by proxy.
I have always believed, and not alone, that Bill’s adventurous life should be turned into a film. The imagination of AI creates hypothetical posters for blockbuster movies. Pure fantasy, do you think?